


Ghosts

by WhoStarLocked



Series: FFXV Rarepairs Week 2021 [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Daemons, Dawn of the Future (Final Fantasy XV), Death, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FFXV Rare Pairs Week, Galahd (Final Fantasy XV), Galahdian Culture (Final Fantasy XV), Ghost Crowe Altius, Ghost Nyx Ulric - Freeform, Ghost Nyx Ulric's Father, Ghost Nyx Ulric's Mother, Ghost Pelna Khara, Ghost Prompto Argentum, Ghost Selena Ulric, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Hurt Cor Leonis, Hurt Prompto, Hurt Prompto Argentum, Hurt/Comfort, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV (2016), Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV Spoilers, M/M, Marriage, Noctis Avoids His Fate, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-Canonical Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Cor Leonis, Post-Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV, Prophetic Dreams, Ramuh - Freeform, Rare Pairings, Sad, Thunder and Lightning, World of Ruin (Final Fantasy), when I'm less tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29389671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoStarLocked/pseuds/WhoStarLocked
Summary: Nyx’s words from the dream echo through his mind, and again, Prompto feels cold.Then, Ignis walks in, and tells them that Insomnia has fallen, and Prompto knows.Nyx is gone.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Nyx Ulric
Series: FFXV Rarepairs Week 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149992
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: FFXV Rare Pairs Week 2021





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Boom! Now I'm all caught up.
> 
> This is day six of FFXV Rarepairs Week! The prompt was ghost story, but.... it kind of just became ghosts. What can I say, I like angst! 
> 
> Again, the tags will probably get changed/added to, as may the title and summary, because it is currently two in the morning for me and I have had a very tiring week at work. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> TW for blood and injuries, and major character death!

“Rule well, young king.”

Nyx basks in the light of his last dawn, his breaths getting more ragged with every passing second. His skin is cracked and scorched, the heat of loaned magic flowing through his veins slowly getting unbearable. He feels oddly peaceful, watching the sun rise above the smoking ruins of Insomnia. He doesn’t bat an eyelid at the destruction and carnage all around him; not even the cooling body of his traitorous captain next to him makes his thoughts sour. 

It takes a moment for him to register the figures moving towards him, their blueish-white silhouettes are well-masked by the sunrise behind them. Nyx raises one hand, blocking out the light, and tries to focus on them. There’s five of them, and a small part of him thinks he should get ready to fight, but he still watches their leisurely approach without moving, unable to summon the energy to care. 

When recognition finally comes to him, he sort of thinks he should be scared, or sad, or angry, but he’s none of those things. He smiles. 

After all, he’d known death would follow the sun. 

“Hey,” Nyx says softly, as the burning in his chest intensifies. 

“Hey yourself.” 

Selena’s voice -  _ his little sister’s voice _ \- is warm, amused, as she comes to a halt in front of him. She looks down on him, her lips quirked in that way when she stumbled upon something that she - and only she - found utterly, completely hilarious. Gods, Nyx has missed that expression. 

“Nyx Ulric, what are we going to do with you?” His mother sighs, hands resting on her hips lightly.

Nyx laughs, his heart aching fiercely, because he’s missed her too, and now here she is once more, scolding him for doing something crazy and reckless, just like she had when he was a kid. 

It’s funny, he thinks, as flames break out on his hand where the ring of the Lucii had been, that now that they’re closer, they look more solid. Colour slowly seeps into their features, their outlines getting sharper the more he looks at them. Around him, the reality of the city slowly falls away. 

“You’re a damned idiot, you know that?” Crowe tells him, fixing him with her signature scowl. “Putting on the ring and fighting Glauca alone. Idiot.”

“Crowe, the word you’re looking for is hero.” Pelna says, grinning, as he reaches Nyx and the others. 

Nyx’s laughter ends on a choked-off sob, as he takes in Pelna, still in his uniform, his hair shining in the sun. 

Pelna’s grin softens into something that’s sad, but understanding, as he crouches down, so he’s level with Nyx. He gently reaches out and squeezes Nyx’s shoulder. Nyx gasps lightly at the touch. It feels so real, a small pressure against his burning skin, and it’s disconcerting that the touch is so solid and certain. He watches Pelna’s hair turn from that eerie blueish-white to brown as he speaks.

“It’s okay, Nyx. It was quick, for me. I didn’t feel a thing. There wasn’t anything anyone could have done.” 

“Quick?” Nyx echoes, blinking back tears he can no longer feel. He glances around them, expecting to see the sea of rubble, and is confused when instead he can see thick, lush grasslands, and a jungle, in the distance. It looks like home. But his home is gone. “What was quick? What’s happening? Where are we?” 

Darkness overtakes his vision for a moment, and when he next manages to open his eyes, suddenly the pain he’d stopped paying attention to is gone. He glances down at himself, but his skin isn’t charred, and his body feels real again, although Nyx doesn’t remember when exactly it stopped feeling that way in the first place.

“Aaaaand you’re here!” Selena chirps, smiling lightly. Next to her, his mother wraps one arm around Crowe as his friend folds her arms across her chest and turns away, her eyes screwed shut tight, shoulders hitching. 

“What?” Nyx croaks, looking up at his family and their surroundings, all now in technicolour and beautiful and seemingly real, except when he concentrates really hard, he can still see a shimmering outline of the fallen city, like the shadowy after-image he leaves behind when he warps. “I don’t under-” 

A hand grabs his and hauls Nyx upright, cutting him off mid-speech. Nyx stumbles into a broad chest, and feels strong arms wrap him up in a bear hug. The man has hair the colour of whiskey, but his eyes are the same deep blue as Nyx’s, and Nyx can only remember one man in his life that gave hugs as good as this. 

“Pa..?” He ventures weakly, not entirely confident in his guess. He doesn’t really recognise him, but that’s to be expected, he supposes. He’d been killed on a hunt when Nyx was only five, after all. It’s been a long time. 

“Oh Nyx, my boy. How I’ve missed you.” He says, finally releasing his grip. He leans back slightly, looking Nyx in the eye and smiling. It’s tinged with sadness. He brushes Nyx’s hair out of his face tenderly, then slowly prods Nyx to turn around. 

“You’ve passed over.” He says gently, just as Nyx abruptly comes face to face with his own body. His own, very burnt, very still, very  _ dead  _ body. “But it’s okay. We’re here, and we’ve got you. We can stay here as long as we want.” 

_ “We can stay here as long as we want,” Another voice whispers in another time, another place, another world.  _

_ “Say the words, sunshine, and we’ll move here and never leave. Be us against the world.” _

_ Soft blonde hair gleams in the sunlight as his boyfriend laughs with delight. Their feet sink into the warm sand, the smell of the sea strong in their nostrils as they walk along Galdin beach and jokingly entertain the notion that either of them could walk away from the duties that await them in the city.  _

“Oh,” Nyx says, feeling wrong-footed and caught out, staring down at himself. He can still see the rubble outlined in that white light underneath himself, and if he concentrates, he can still see Glauca lying near him, and the rest of Insomnia beyond. “Oh.”

He turns on the spot, and sees the five of them watching him, all with soft sympathy on his faces. 

“They did tell you.” Selena says carefully, delicately, like he might break if she spoke too loud. “That you’d die.” 

“No, I know. I just…” Nyx swallows uncomfortably, tears pricking at his eyes, because his sunshine, his poor, sweet sunshine, who’d left the city while Nyx had still been on his way back from the frontlines, who wouldn’t have any idea... “I didn’t get to say goodbye to someone.” 

“You can go to him, darling.” His mother replies softly. “You can still say farewell to your sunshine.” 

* * *

_ The door to their apartment clicks open softly, its signature creak loud in his ears. He sits up in bed, but his boyfriend isn’t next to him, and his glaive uniform and weapons are still missing from their place on the wardrobe door in the corner of the room. Frowning, he clambers out of the bed and makes his way through to the main room of the apartment.  _

_ “There you are,” A voice as familiar as air says softly, and he blinks as he shuffles into the room fully.  _

_ He finds his boyfriend sitting on their ratty sofa, a soft white glow emanating from around him. There are scars on his body, that he knows weren’t there before, but they all look faded, white and glinting in the light. _

_ It makes Nyx look almost ethereal. _

_ “Nyx? What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to be home for another couple of weeks.”  _

_ Nyx smiles at him, but there’s something oddly vulnerable about his expression.  _

_ “I’m sorry, sunshine.” He says, ignoring his question entirely. “I did what I had to. I wish there’d been another way, but there wasn’t, and I’m so sorry.”  _

_ The words send dread through his veins, tears building in his eyes, because that - that sounded an awful lot like goodbye, and he didn’t want to lose Nyx, not sure he could even survive losing Nyx, and not like this, when he hasn’t even seen him in months. _

_ He yearns to move closer to Nyx, but for some reason he can’t. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier between them, and no matter how much he wants to go to Nyx’s side, he remains rooted to the spot.  _

_ “I love you, you know that, right?” Nyx says, still watching him with that sad, soft smile. “I love you so, so much. And I’ll be waiting, okay? You don’t have to rush here, though - in fact please don’t. But when you’re ready, I’ll be there.”  _

_ “Nyx,” he says, trembling. He wants to beg him not to go, but the words get caught up by the lump in his throat, but then the halo of light around Nyx starts glowing, and somehow, he knows it’s far, far too late. _

_ He tries to step forwards, tries not to lose sight of Nyx as the light gets brighter and brighter, hurting his eyes. He has to look away, to shield his eyes but it doesn’t stop and - _

Prompto blinks awake, heart pounding wildly, to the infuriating beep of Ignis’ alarm. The dream falls away from him, the light fading into a more bearable daybreak at Galdin. 

He takes in a shuddering breath, but that shaky, hopeless feeling remains lodged in his chest, even as he sits up and switches off the alarm. 

“You alright?” Gladio grunts, yawning widely in the next bed over. Noct, of course, is still fast asleep. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Prom gets dressed silently, feeling completely numb, as he waits for the hammering of his heart to subside. 

“I just had a really bizarre dream.” He says, but even as he says it, it feels wrong, on some level. It hadn’t felt like a dream at all. 

Gladio grunts and lets him be as they both go about their morning routines.

When Noct gets up a few minutes later, Gladio having poked him awake, Prom can’t bring himself to say morning to his friend. 

He hasn’t seen Nyx in months, and it’s not really unusual for Prom to have dreams about him, when he’s away, but they’re usually of identifiable memories, or of a far more exciting nature entirely. He half wonders if Noct would wait here for a few days for him, if he asked to go back to Insomnia. 

Nyx would be there now, home from the fronts - they’d missed each other by a day, as far as they can tell - and awaiting new orders in the wake of the peace treaty.

Prom really wants to see him, to reassure himself that he’s there, because that not-dream has left him feeling shaky and awakened insecurities even Promtpo hadn’t realised he had. He’s already texted, and he’s tried calling, but there’s been no reply. He knows, realistically, that it’ll be because Nyx is working, or training, but there’s a small niggling doubt in the back of his mind.

Nyx’s words from the dream echo through his mind, and again, Prompto feels cold. 

Then, Ignis walks in, and tells them that Insomnia has fallen, and Prompto  _ knows _ . 

Nyx is gone. 

* * *

Prompto stares across at the remains of their home, and feels nothing. 

That numbness doesn’t go anywhere. He functions on autopilot. He acts chipper and happy because it’s expected. 

He doesn’t feel anything until Altissia.

It’s easy to fall apart there, with Ignis and Noct both laid out unconscious, in the wake of Luna’s death. It’s very easy to give in and accept that he’s gone. To cry and be angry and hate that they got so little time. 

Gladio lets him. 

Gladio, as it turns out, had known something was bothering him since the not-dream, and he’s not at all surprised when Prompto finally tells him about his now-dead boyfriend. 

He lets Prompto pour his heart out to him, while they wait for their friends to wake up. And it helps, to let himself speak about all the good times they’d had, their trips beyond the wall, their date nights in their crummy little apartment that had been falling to pieces around them but that they loved because it had been  _ theirs _ . 

Prompto remembers the safety he found in Nyx’s arms, his bright smile, his laugh. He remembers the way Nyx looked laying in bed, the pair of them breathless and content, the way Nyx’s lips had bruised after he’d kissed him senseless. 

He remembers Nyx teaching him to drive, his wild laughter when Prompto almost got them trampled by garulas. He remembers their trip to Galdin, how they’d spent days and days lazing in the sand, perfectly content in their little bubble. 

He remembers the worse times too, the haunted look in Nyx’s eyes when he woke up from nightmares, the way his voice was subdued when he told Prompto about Selena, and his mother, and losing his home. He remembers their first fight, and all the times Nyx cried because he didn’t want to leave Prompto to go to the frontlines. 

He remembers the way he felt he could be whole, when Nyx was around. Nyx never ever judged him, and it had been so easy, to let go of all his acts and false confidence and let Nyx see the wreckage beneath his façade. 

It had been less easy to let Nyx help him rebuild that wreckage, but Nyx had persevered, and Prompto would always be grateful for all the hurts he’d managed to heal. 

Prompto remembers Nyx, and he remembers how to feel again. 

When they leave Altissia, Prompto doesn’t feel okay - he’s not sure he’ll ever feel completely okay, without Nyx - but he feels lighter. 

At some point in his captivity, he realises he can’t remember which of Nyx’s tattoos had been under which eye, and his heart doesn’t break as much as he expects it to.

* * *

Life, and death, goes on. 

* * *

Ten years pass by Prompto in the blink of an eye. It feels like only yesterday that he stood before his completely destroyed home, and mourned the only person he’d ever loved. It feels like no time at all has passed since Noct fell into the crystal. 

Gladio had been the first to leave, finding himself unable to escape the guilt and sharp feelings that being around them brought. Ignis had followed soon after, stepping up to help organise provisions and hunts and everything in between. Prompto had joined the hunters. Sometimes, they met up, to remember, or to get blind drunk in the hopes they’d forget, but they always went their separate ways again afterwards. Prompto always ended up alone, wondering what his future might have been, if he’d still had Nyx. 

The only constant is Cor, because of course Cor still looks out for them and checks up on them all. He wouldn’t be their leader if he didn’t care about them so much. 

Cor’s given Prompto so much, both before and during and after the road trip that went so disastrously wrong, and half the reason Prompto stayed fighting is to try and pay some of that back, if given the chance. 

When the red giant raises its sword, preparing to slam it down on Cor’s exposed back while he fights off a Ronin, of course Prompto darts forward and takes the hit. 

A scream tears at his throat as the blade catches him across the chest, and he falls, barely registering the impact against the concrete of the road. The white hot agony makes bright dots appear in his field of vision, every breath making it begin to hurt anew, until the adrenaline kicks in, and he realises that it’s not his breathing making it hurt so much, but the fact that Cor’s carrying him as he runs towards the safety of a nearby haven. 

He coughs wetly, and feels blood pool in his throat, but he can’t muster the energy to worry about that. 

Cor skids to a halt as soon as they reach the perimeter of blue light, and he kneels carefully, but doesn’t set Prompto down. 

“Prompto? Can you hear me?” He asks, his voice like thunder, but Prompto knows it’s in that way that means he’s actually worried, not angry. 

All he can do is cough again, much more weakly. He feels blood bubbling over his lips, his breathing wheezy and ragged. He tries nodding, but he feels so boneless and heavy, he’s not really sure he manages to do anything except let his head roll to one side. 

Beyond the wall of blue light, he can just make out the red giant, stalking up and down the road. Above him, a radio crackles, and he vaguely hears Cor screaming for backup, something about potions, then a lot of swearing, and more screaming, but it all seems distant, like it’s a world away.

A warm, calloused hand cups his face gently, and pulls his head back round. 

Cor’s face swims into view above him, and Prompto makes a distressed noise when he sees tears pooling in Cor’s eyes. 

“Prompto?” Cor asks again, but this time his voice is weak, and wobbles. “Prom, please answer me!” 

One tear splashes down onto Prom’s face, only, he can’t really feel it. 

He’s cold, he realises suddenly, and tries to tell Cor as much, but the words come out as one indiscernible moan. He lifts one arm slowly, and grasps onto Cor’s chest, his grip weak. Maybe Cor will feel that he’s cold. 

“Cor,” He manages to rasp out, and he wants to carry on, to say that Cor shouldn’t be sad, not for his death, and to tell him that he knows, he knows about Gralea and that it was Cor that rescued him, when he’d been too young to even know he needed rescuing. But then he hacks up more blood, and his throat is too raw to try forming more words.

_ At least it’s me, _ He thinks distantly,  _ and not Gladio or Iggy. Noct would rather have them with him, at the end.  _ He blinks sluggishly. He can’t really reopen his eyes fully. 

“Prom, no! Stay awake!” Cor pleads, tapping his cheek gently. 

He tries, he really tries, but everything feels slow and distant, and it takes far more effort than he has. Besides, the darkness behind his eyelids is far more inviting than the darkness Eos is shrouded in.

“Prompto, stay awake! Talk to me, Prom. Keep your eyes open!” 

The ringing in his ears almost drowns out the words, even though they’re yelled, but Prompto feels them, can feel them vibrating in Cor’s chest.

He looks up slowly. He doesn’t like being yelled at, even when he knows it’s fear causing it. He wants Cor to stop shouting. He doesn’t want Cor to be scared.

He meets Cor’s eyes, so full of tears, and briefly gets his lips to twitch into a smile.

Then Cor’s face falls out of focus. 

Darkness presses in on him, pushing him down and through, crushing him until he feels weightless, and then, he hears another voice.

“..nshine? Can you hear me?”

It’s so familiar. But it can’t be. He’s been dead for years. And yet...

“Prom, sweetheart, open your eyes.” 

Prompto finds he can do that now, and he blinks, taking in the strange empty field around them. He looks towards the speaker, and his heart catches in his throat.

Nyx stands before him, alive, and unhurt, and beautiful, his eyes as bright as ever. A soft smile plays around his lips, and Prompto can’t help it, he scrambles to his feet and runs to Nyx, holding on to him with all his might. Tears fill his eyes as Nyx slowly returns the hug, his arms steady and promising refuge from the world, just like they always did. 

“Nyx!” He sobs, reluctantly lifting his head to meet Nyx’s gaze. “Gods, Nyx, I’ve missed you! How are you here?! I thought you were dead!” 

Nyx’s lips purse, and he presses a gentle kiss to Prompto’s brow. “Oh, sweetheart.” He whispers softly, completely heartbroken. “I am.” 

Prompto frowns, his elation pushed aside as quickly as it came. “But… but you’re here.” 

“Yes.” Nyx replies, eyes shining with unshed tears. “And now you’re here with me.” 

Dread churns in Prompto’s stomach as Nyx’s words settle in his mind. The ice-cold feeling he’d had moments ago returns, and slowly he detaches himself from Nyx’s hold and turns around. 

The haven light isn’t coloured anymore, and neither are the two people in it. 

Or one person, technically. 

Prompto’s body is still there, in Cor’s lap. His chest has been cleaved right open; blood still trickles slowly from the wound. 

He swallows, feeling nauseous. 

There is no way he’d ever have survived that. 

He’s only glad he’d died before Cor started to waste potions and elixirs on him. 

“Cor,” He whispers shakily, watching the man in question. 

Cor cries, his hand shaking visibly as he checks for a pulse. When he doesn’t find one, his wordless screams are audible, even through the barrier between life and death. Prom’s heart breaks as he watches Cor lean over him, pressing their foreheads together. His arms wrap around Prompto’s lifeless body, as he rocks, back and forth, tears dampening Prompto’s hair as he holds him close. 

Arms wrap around him from behind, and Prompto holds on to Nyx as they watch Cor grieve in the world of the living. 

“I should’ve told him.” Prompto manages to say around the lump in his throat. “I should’ve told him I knew.” 

“Knew what?” Nyx murmurs, holding him tight. It feels like the only thing keeping him upright is Nyx’s arms. 

“That he got me out of Gralea when I was a kid. That my first word was Cor and my second was dada, because he spent months raising me in the wilderness getting me back to Insomnia. That I remembered. I remember him giving me up. I remember him crying, and Clarus having to take me out of his arms because he couldn’t hand me over.” 

Prompto turns away then, unable to watch the man who didn’t get to be his father grieve for him any longer. It seems so stupid now, to have never admitted to Cor that he remembered that, even though he was just a toddler. He’d been scared, at the time, that they’d think there was something wrong with him, or they’d realise that maybe he was more MT than human after all. 

Nyx kisses his cheek softly. “You can, if you want. You can go to him for a little while. Just like I did for you.” 

Prompto lets himself cry into Nyx’s shoulder, as his thoughts turn to that weird not-dream he’d had, ten years ago. 

“Yes.” He says, through his tears, voice uneven. “I need him to know.”

“Sunshine, you can only go back once.” Nyx tells him, and it sounds like a warning.

Prom looks up at him, frowning. 

“You can only go to one person. If you go back to Cor, you can’t go back to Scientia, or Amicitia, or anyone else.” 

Prom bites his lip, but really, there’s no choice to be made. 

Cor needs him the most. Cor needs to know that he knew, needs to feel able to grieve like a father would for his son, rather than forcing himself to grieve any less because of other people. 

“How do you do it?” He asks, looking up at Nyx. 

Nyx brushes the tears off his cheeks with his thumb and smiles softly. “It’s easier to go when they’re sleeping. There’s less chance of them subconsciously pushing you away, then.” 

“Oh.” Prom replies, letting himself fall back into the embrace. “So we have to stay with him until then?” 

“Not unless you want to.” Nyx says. “You can sort of… keep tabs, on people, here. You don’t have to follow them round like in all the horror films.” 

Prompto considers, for a moment. It’s kind of bizarre, to think that dead people can watch over living people from afar. But then, death being just another world that feels more real than the last one is quite bizarre in the first place. 

“I don’t want him to be alone.” Prompto says without really meaning to, but once he’s said it he knows that that’s his choice. 

“Then we’ll stay.” Nyx whispers, still just holding him close. 

Prompto lets his eyes fall shut. “How long does this last? How long do I get to keep you this time?”

“We have all the time in the world.” 

They stay with Cor, witnessing his tears, listening to him as his screams turn to sobs, then into hiccoughs as his eyes run dry, listening to him apologise over and over to the body in his arms. They stay with him until the hunters come, until they manage to prise Prompto from his grip and lead him away. 

A few of them stay behind, to burn Prom’s body, because after all, it had been a daemon that had struck him down, and the last thing they need is more daemons littering the land. 

Prompto’s glad, in a way, that they don’t let Cor stay for that.

* * *

Once he’s used to it, the afterlife isn’t so bad. 

Which is to say, it’s amazing. 

In their world, there is light. The world is wild and free and breathtakingly beautiful. There are chocobos and horses and dogs, and shittons of other animals, and they’re all friendly, and he and Nyx can spend every single second of every single day with each other. They don’t get tired, in this world, either. 

In the first few weeks, they’d barely been out of each other’s arms, had spent so much time together that Prompto had been sure they’d mold into one being. 

Now though, now the  _ oh-my-gods-we’re-together-again! _ desperation has passed, they spend their days exploring this better, kinder version of Eos, and in the evenings they visit their loved ones. Prompto’s first, since they’re all still alive and it’s nicer to visit them when they’re awake, then Nyx’s, because there’s no time limit on visiting them. Then they go back to their home, a traditional Galahdian home, out in the middle of nowhere, and fall asleep curled around each other. They don’t need to sleep, but sometimes it’s nice to anyway. 

The day of their wedding is overcast with storm clouds, but they’re getting married in Galahd - or what should be, in theory, Galahd. Nyx says it’s not quite like Galahd had been when they were alive, but it’s still like home - so really it can only be good that there’s pouring rain and lightning on their wedding day.

Nyx’s parents, and Selena, and Pelna and Crowe and Libertus are all there, among others. Prompto doesn’t know many of them, but he’s glad for that, in a way. He’s glad his friends still get to live their lives. And it’s not like he hasn’t made friends with Nyx’s people in his time here.

He’s immeasurably glad that Noctis found a way to subvert his fate and remain with them too, because he’s not sure he could have handled going to collect his best friend’s soul a mere handful of days after he’d died. He’s not sure Cor, Ignis and Gladio could’ve handled it either. 

Prompto’s stomach flutters with nerves as he stares at Nyx as the old lady marrying them (a Galahdian Prompto doesn’t know, but whom all the Galahdians seem to worship) ties the ribbons in place around their joined hands. Nyx smiles at him as he says his vows, his voice clearly audible despite downpour, and Prompto’s nerves dissipate a little. 

Prompto can’t tear his eyes away from Nyx as he says his own vows, promises to love and cherish Nyx and stay by his side from now until the end of time, and he’s hardly aware of speaking, he’s so wrapped up in his love for Nyx. But when he runs out of words to say, Nyx’s eyes are full of unshed tears, as they seal their union with a Galahdian gesture of love:

They press their foreheads together for long seconds, their hands still tied together in front of them, their breaths mingling. 

“You are now husbands,” The old woman declares warmly, smiling at their pair of them. “May Ramuh bless your union.” 

When lightning strikes nearby a few seconds later, the crowd goes wild. 

Prompto laughs breathlessly, and lifts himself up on tiptoe to kiss Nyx. 

“Guess it really is you and me against the world now, huh?” Prompto grins as they break apart. 

Nyx grins right back, as they refrain from kissing so the ribbons can be untied. 

Later, when it’s not raining and the ribbons are dry, they’ll be braided into Nyx’s hair, and Prompto’s fashioned into some kind of jewellery, a constant reminder of their commitment to each other.

“Except this time, we really can stay here as long as we want.”

Nyx makes a show of lifting Prompto into his arms to kiss him, much to the delight of their friends and family. Prompto can’t bring himself to be embarrassed though. His whole world is contained in the feeling of Nyx’s arms around him, and the press of Nyx’s lips against his own. 

“I love you, Nyx.”

“I love you too, my sunshine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, even in a PromNyx fic I managed to find some Cor angst. I'm sorry, I just can't help myself!


End file.
